


Good Boy

by TimmyJaybird



Series: (I Think That) I was Meant to be Next to You [4]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Restraints, Spanking, Trans Character, Vaginal Sex, ftm Yoosung, handjobs, light rope bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Yoosung's a good boy. He can prove it. And good boys are rewarded.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am apparently just on an MM kick holy fuck

Yoosung skipped slightly, turning on his toes and glancing at the buttons inside the elevator. His headphones were snug to his head, and he couldn’t hear the world outside his too-loud music. He hummed to himself, hitting a button and watching as the doors shut. He pulled his phone from his sweater pocket, glancing over his texts- Zen was still at rehearsal, and it seemed to be threatening to run late. It was expected, opening night for the latest musical he was starring in was quickly approaching, and Yoosung knew his boyfriend would be close to a ghost until after.

 

He tapped out a quick text to Zen, wishing him luck and letting him know where he was for the night. It ended with far too many  _ kissing face _ emojis and hearts, before Yoosung shoved his phone back into his sweater pocket, as the door opened. He stepped out, pausing when the security down the hall looked at him. He only waved, heading over and stopping in front of the large man, lifting on his toes and rocking slightly as he tugged his headphones down, left them around his neck.

 

“He’s not exactly expecting me,” Yoosung admitted, as the guard looked him over. But a moment later and he stepped aside- and Yoosung was glad it was one that recognized him, at least. While he knew his name was listed with a permanent  _ allow in at any time _ at the C&R headquarters, it could get complicated when he was just dropping by Jumin’s penthouse. The typical guards recognized him- some even made small talk- but if there was ever a new one, it always took  _ forever _ .

 

Yoosung opened the door, stepping inside. The penthouse seemed fairly quiet- he could hear voices faintly, but it sounded like the television. He paused to toe off his overly bright sneakers, before walking towards the voice, mis-matched socked feet fairly quiet. He rounded the corner just as Jumin lifted his head from where he sat on the couch, Elizabeth curled up on his lap. Upon seeing Yoosung the cat meowed, hopping right off Jumin’s lap and trotting over, her collar jingling at she moved.

 

“Hiya princess,” Yoosung said, stooping down and gathering her up into his arms. He hoisted her to his chest, leaning down to nuzzle her as she mewed at him, squirming before she began to purr. Yoosung giggled, glancing up, spotting Jumin watching him. He smiled, lifting his head and heading for the couch.

 

“If I recall,” Jumin said, as Yoosung paused, standing right in front of him, “you complained about her fur being on everything before. And now you are willingly holding her.”

 

“I never said I didn’t like Elizabeth,” Yoosung said, bending down and letting her hop back onto the couch. “But she really did cover my entire dorm in fur. In my keyboard, Jumin. My keyboard!”

 

Jumin huffed, reaching over to stroke Elizabeth’s head. “I bought you a new keyboard, darling.”

 

Yoosung’s cheeks flushed over that and he glanced down. “Told you not to,” he mumbled, because he  _ had _ and he felt bad that Jumin had done that. He didn’t  _ want _ anything from him. Not like that, anyway.

 

Jumin smiled, taking his hand back and patting his thigh. “You look so cute,” he mused, “when you blush.” Yoosung took the invitation, crawling up to straddle Jumin’s lap. He sighed when Jumin’s hands gripped at his waist, held him still as he looked up, inclining his head slightly as he studied the color on Yoosung’s cheeks. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

 

“Thought I’d surprise you,” Yoosung admitted, far too aware of how  _ good _ it always felt to have Jumin’s hands holding him still like this. He squirmed, squeezing his thighs tightly against Jumin’s. “Should I have stayed home?”

 

Jumin leaned in at that, dragged his nose along Yoosung’s jawline, inhaling when he got to his neck. He could smell Yoosung’s shampoo and that cheap body spray he loved that somehow  _ worked _ on him, and it was making him dizzy. “No,” he whispered, and his breath had Yoosung shivering. “I always want to see you, my love.”

 

Yoosung sighed, tipping his head to the side as Jumin pressed his mouth to his pulse. He kissed slowly, making Yoosung’s fingers flex, as he reached up, gripped at his biceps- felt the silken material of his pajama top. He exhaled, trying to keep his hips still as he felt the drag of Jumin’s teeth, right against  his throat. His eyes fell half shut, and he could feel Jumin murmuring into his skin, even though the words were getting lost.

 

That was alright. He was used to the little sweet nothings Jumin loved to whisper. He knew them, in his heart.

 

“Careful,” Yoosung breathed, trying his best to ignore the way his belly was going tight- that if he moved right, he  _ knew _ he was wet.

 

“Of what?” Jumin asked, reaching up with one hand and grabbing Yoosung’s headphones. He pulled them carefully from his neck, tossing them onto the couch. The wire stretched, still attached to his phone, in his pocket. “Am I making your blood rush, darling?” Yoosung bit at his lower lip, attempted to squeeze his thighs together- ad Jumin smirked, pushing his own up. Yoosung gasped, mouth falling open, and Jumin pinched his earlobe between his teeth, worried it as Yoosung gave a little whine.

 

“Didn’t… come over for this…” Yoosung admitted, tipping his head to the other side as Jumin moved back to his neck, sucking at the skin like he planned to bruise. “But… I’m not saying  _ no _ .”

 

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Jumin was moving. Yoosung gave a startled little cry as Jumin stood up, his legs wrapping around his waist out of reflex. His phone tumbled from his pocket and landed on the couch as Jumin supported him, turning and heading towards the doorway.

 

“What are you doing?” Yoosung asked, clinging. Jumin moved fairly well for carrying his weight- not as well as Zen did, but Yoosung wasn’t  _ that _ heavy.

 

“Someplace more fitting.”

 

Yoosung clung tighter, until Jumin was walking through his open bedroom door. Once he reached the foot of the bed he dropped Yoosung onto it. Yoosung gasped, bouncing and sprawling out, as Jumin leaned over him, shoving his shirt up and his cardigan aside. Licking a hot trail down his belly to the hem of his leggings. The blond groaned, hips bucking up, as Jumin moved over the fabric, pressed his mouth between Yoosung’s thighs. He trembled, hands grasping at the bedding, twisting the blanket between his fingers, as Jumin’s hands roamed along his thighs.

 

“Can I play with you tonight?”

 

Yoosung nodded vigorously, as Jumin lifted his head. Another flash of a wicked smile, and he was crawling up him, shoving his shirt higher, until it was tucked up under his arms.

 

“Good.” He dipped his head down, laved his tongue over one pink nipple. Yoosung exhaled, fidgeting, and he  _ knew _ that Jumin knew it wasn’t enough- that he wasn’t overly sensitive there, like Zen was. His surgery had left enough dead-end nerves that he needed to play rough…

 

When his teeth clamped down, pinching the nub, however, Yoosung  _ got _ what he needed. He arched, hands going for Jumin’s hair and fisting there. He tugged, giving another cry, as Jumin worried it until it was cherry red. When he pulled off he kissed the center of Yoosung’s chest, before trying to catch his half lidded eyes.

 

“Are you here with me?” he asked. Yoosung licked his lips, nodded, and Jumin was suddenly pulling him up. He shoved his cardigan off his shoulders, before he was nearly tearing at his shirt. Yoosung managed to get it off, tossing it away, before he was being shoved down again, Jumin’s hands curling under the waist of his leggings. He tugged, until his fingers hit the waistband of his briefs, and then everything was being torn down his thighs. Yoosung lifted his hips, almost laughing as everything tangled at his ankles and Jumin had to take a moment to untangle it. “Laughing?” he asked, as it all finally fell to the floor- even Yoosung’s socks. Jumin clicked his tongue, got his knee on the bed and leaned over Yoosung, one hand bracing him as the other moved between his legs, wasted no time pushing past his lips to rub over his clit. Yoosung’s laughter broke off into a gasp, before his hips were gyrating, moving towards Jumin’s fingers. “There are far better sounds you can make for me.”

 

Yoosung writhed, panting as Jumin’s mouth was  _ so close _ . But when he tried to close the gap, lifting up, Jumin pulled away. Yoosung whined, and Jumin pushed his fingers lower, teased his entrance and spread the wetness there.

 

“You have to earn it,” Jumin whispered, “think you can?”

 

Yoosung nodded. “I’m a good boy,” he whispered, spreading his legs further. Jumin chuckled, pulling his hand back. He stood up, making a show of examining his wet fingers, before licking along the tips. Yoosung shivered, watched those eyes go inhumanly dark, before Jumin reached for him. He grasped his hips, flipping him easily. Yoosung didn’t fight back,  _ lived _ for when this side of Jumin came out. Besides, he could end it all with a single word.

 

Jumin pushed him, until Yoosung lifted up on his knees. He folded his arms, cradling his cheek against them, as he felt jumin’s fingers trailing up over the back of his thigh, the swell of his ass, before leaving him as he walked around the bed. Yoosung closed his eyes, listening to the gentle footsteps, the sound of fabric moving- and he knew Jumin was undressing. There was a drawer opening, rummaging, and then those footsteps coming back.

 

And when Jumin grasped at Yoosung’s arm, forced it from under his cheek, he still didn’t fight. He shifted, got his hands back behind his back as his cheek pressed against the bed. He felt something being wrapped around his forearms tightly, and sat perfectly still as Jumin worked the rope. Thin, finely braided, Yoosung knew it was black from experience. He’d seen it many times.

 

He knew the sort of knots Jumin could tie without a single thought.

 

When he was done, Yoosung listened as Jumin walked back around the bed. His fingers trailed back along his thighs, before slipping between them, rubbing along his slit. Yoosung groaned, trying to grind back towards it, might have been  _ embarrassed _ over how wet this got him- except this was Jumin, and Jumin  _ knew _ how Yoosung liked it.

 

He heard Jumin him, wondered if he was inclining his head. If he was studying Yoosung. “Raise your ass higher,” he said, and Yoosung listened, baring himself. There was a little pleased sound, and then a small  _ click _ , and Yoosung’s eyes were flying open.

 

“What-”

 

“It would be a  _ shame _ for our darling to miss this sight.” Yoosung swallowed, as one of Jumin’s hands grabbed one asscheek, tugging gently. Flesh parted and there was another  _ click _ , before Jumin pulled his hand back. The gentle  _ tap  _ of his thumbs on the phone, before it was set on the bed. “He’ll be very sorry he missed this.”

 

Yoosung swallowed, felt Jumin’s hands running over his ass now, squeezing. He shivered, trying to rock back- and then felt the tip of Jumin’s cock, rubbing against his lips.

 

“Careful boy,” he breathed, even as he eased his hips, rubbing against Yoosung again. “You’ll make me want you.”

 

“You- want me already,” Yoosung whispered, managing to push back, almost getting Jumin’s cockhead inside him. Jumin pulled back at the last second, and the hands on his ass left for a single second- before one fell down in a heavy slap. Yoosung yelped, the sting radiating over the tender flesh, before another hit. “ _ Brat _ ,” Jumin breathed, before slapping again. Yoosung choked, the pain radiating as yet  _ another _ hit came. It stung as the flesh grew hot to the touch- and just when Yoosung was shaking, Jumin’s hand fell, and suddenly he was grasping his hips. He jerked him back, burying himself inside Yoosung with a single thrust.

 

The blond writhed, cheek dragging against the blanket as his hands clenched together. Jumin kept a hold on his hips, groaning as he pulled back and thrust in again.

 

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, “you want it this badly?” When Yoosung only whined, he thrust in harder, another slap falling on his ass and making him cry out. “Use your  _ words _ .”

 

“Yes,” Yoosung whined, body jostling as Jumin continued to fuck him. He felt so damn  _ hard _ that Yoosung might have teased back that he quite obviously wanted this too- but he bit that back. For now. “Want you- Jumin,  _ hard _ .”

 

He got his wish as Jumin snapped his hips, fucking him like he wanted to tear Yoosung apart. The blond whimpered, breaths turning into sobs as he squirmed. He tugged at the bindings on his forearms, wishing he could got a hand beneath himself, could rub his clit until he was coming around Jumin’s cock. He couldn’t get off like this- but his body was tensing up anyway, clenching subtly and unclenching around Jumin as he hit every damn nerve inside him that cried out to be touched.

 

That only earned him  _ another _ slap. “Not yet,” Jumin, sounding like he was slightly losing his control. Like his words were coming from between gritted teeth. Yoosung wanted to see him, wanted to see his dark eyes gone wild- wanted to see the way his hair seemed to fan out, the subtle color to his cheeks. The way he bared his teeth and fought so damn badly to not fall into Yoosung’s trap.

 

That no matter how much control Jumin played at having,  _ he _ called the shots and was the one to pull Jumin apart.

 

Yoosung wriggled his hips, so frustratingly close he felt he was losing his mind. He gave a sob, a wanton cry when Jumin suddenly pulled from his cunt. He got another slap for it, before he heard that damn  _ click _ again- and he hoped that whenever Zen looked at those pictures, he was  _ alone _ .

 

“Turn around for me,” Jumin said, and Yoosung managed to right himself up onto his knees. He shuffled, turning to face him, looking up with wet eyes and rosy cheeks. Jumin smirked down at him, bending and gripping his chin, pinching at his cheeks gently. “You’re beautiful like this.” Yoosung whimpered, before Jumin pulled back. “I will support you,” he offered, reaching back. He grasping at Yoosung’s bindings, holding him and helping to counter his weight as Yoosung bent forward. He knew what Jumin wanted-

 

And god, he wanted it too.

 

He opened his mouth, managed to get Jumin’s cockhead between his lips. He sucked, rolling his tongue over it, coming away with the taste of  _ himself _ . He sighed, eased lower, cheeks hollowing out as he sucked. Jumin kept his hips still, allowing Yoosung to move as he pleased-

 

Different from when he sucked Zen off. Zen preferred to fuck his mouth, to tangle his hands in his hair and tug and twist and make Yoosung’s scalp sting in the most perfect ways.

 

He closed his eyes, feeling his shoulders burning. He couldn’t stay like this very long, but he didn’t think he’d need to. Jumin didn’t seem to be trying to drag this out- and he was alright with that. He was still trying to squeeze his thighs together, wanted friction, wanting his  _ own _ relief.

 

He heard Jumin give a small grunt, and then his hips were moving slightly. Yoosung moaned around him, took him in deeper, moving his head as best as he could. Jumin gasped, his hips jerking slightly and then stilling, and Yoosung felt his cock pulsing over his tongue. He swallowed, trying to keep any of his cum from slipping between his lips, but when Jumin pulled his hips back, his cock sliding from Yoosung’s mouth with a wet  _ pop _ , he couldn’t keep that small pearly drop from making it’s way from the corner of his mouth.

 

Yoosung was shoved back before he could react, sprawling out on his back, his bound arms pinned beneath him. His legs spread and Jumin was  _ there _ without hesitation, grasping his thighs and shoving them wider apart. His mouth met hot, wet flesh, before his tongue pushed up to flick at Yoosung’s clit. It was quick, not as steady as when Zen ate him- but then again,  _ no one _ ate pussy like Zen did, and Yoosung was damn well aware of that.

 

“Fuck,” he cursed, exhaling it as he shoved his hips up, grinding against Jumin’s mouth. Jumin sucked gently at his clit, and with that Yoosung shook all over, crying out loudly. His eyes squeezed shut, the corners wet, two streaks of tears making their way down his hot cheeks. He dug his heels into the bed, fucking himself against Jumin’s mouth as he rode out the orgasm, until he was collapsing, going limp against the bed.

 

Jumin pulled back then, turning and nuzzling one of Yoosung’s thighs, before pushing himself up. As he did, Yoosung rolled onto one side, and then his belly once Jumin had moved properly, flexing his hands. Jumin was silent as he reached up, deft fingers working open the expert knots easily. Once the rope was loose and free, he walked it over to his nightstand, tucking it away as Yoosung rolled back onto his back, rubbing at one of his wrists.

 

“You gotta show me how to tie those someday,” he offered, sitting up. He winced, his ass aching, as Jumin sat down next to him, reaching up to rub one trail of tears away with his thumb, before it trailed down, rubbed up the single line of cu that had leaked from Yoosung’s mouth. It pushed between his lips, and Yoosung rolled his tongue along the tip, watching the way Jumin’s eyes expressed just how badly he didn’t want to be done.

 

But instead of pressing, he asked, “What do you need from me now?”

 

His thumb pulled free, and Yoosung smiled. “Not much,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulder. With something so brief, he didn’t really fall into any sort of headspace, didn’t need the sort of aftercare he might have if they had played for  _ longer _ . The kind that usually involved Zen stepping in and worshipping every inch of him with his hands and mouth, bringing him back up and making him feel so free and precious.

 

Not that Jumin didn’t offer that, but Zen- he was so damn  _ good _ at that.

 

“My ass hurts though,” he admitted, and Jumin cracked a smile. He leaned over, kissed Yoosung’s warm cheek.

 

“Lay down with me,” he offered, nuzzling into his soft hair, “let me make up for that.”

 

*

 

Yoosung sighed, his face pressed up beneath Jumin’s chin. He’d stolen his pajama top, was snuggled right up to him as he slowly came back to consciousness. He wasn’t sure what brought him to, at first- until he heard the soft footsteps, along the floor- and then the dip of the bed.

 

A mouth kissed the back of his neck, moved towards his ear and whispered, “Wake up, sweetheart.” Yoosung sighed, still didn’t open his eyes, as that mouth moved to his languid pulse, a warm tongue lapping against it. “C’mon honey, I know you’re waking up.”

 

Another sigh, and Yoosung leaned back- loath to leave the warm spot he had against Jumin, but unwilling to say no to a voice his sleeping mind  _ knew _ . A mouth found his, lightly, and Yoosung smiled slightly, tasted the end of a cigarette hidden beneath mint.

 

“Zen,” he mumbled, when his boyfriend pulled back. He opened his eyes, staring up blurry for a moment before he could blink it away. Zen was smiling down at him, his ponytail flopped over one shoulder.

 

“Hey there,” he whispered, reaching one hand out to brush back Yoosung’s bangs. “There’s those pretty eyes.” Yoosung flushed, and Zen’s smile grew.

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Almost one.” Yoosung’s eyes widened a little, and he sat up, pulling himself from Jumin’s embrace. The other stirred, turning his face into his pillow and huffing, slowly waking himself. “Rehearsal ran later than anyone expected.”

 

Yoosung nodded, reaching up to rub at his eyes, as Jumin finally sat up, staring at Zen in the dark. “So you came here?” he asked, seeming to be able to simply  _ jump _ into the conversation as if he had been awake and present the entire time. Zen shrugged a shoulder, leaning across Yoosung’s lap to kiss Jumin’s cheek.

 

“Maybe I wanted to see you two,” he offered. Jumin said nothing, turning to kiss the corner of Zen’s mouth, before he could pull away. He was frowning when Zen settled back though.

 

“You were smoking,” he noted, and Yoosung nodded. He could just smell the smoke on Zen’s hair, too, mixed in with his cologne.

 

“It was… a long night.” He sighed, reaching up and trying to brush his hair out of his face. “Just stressed. It’s nothing big. I promise.” He flashed a smile, the kind that had Yoosung’s heart thudding ridiculously hard, before it turned into a smirk. “Anyway- why  _ wouldn’t _ I come here? After those pictures you sent me…” He glanced back at Yoosung, and Zen’s burgundy eyes could have bore through him, tore holes right through his damn existence. “How are you feeling?”

 

“ _ Good _ ,” Yoosung admitted, shifting a little. His ass still ached, but it was  _ worth _ it. Jumin had made it up to him- had held him back against his chest and slid his hand between his legs and gotten him off twice more before Yoosung finally fell into sleep. Had kissed his hair and called him  _ his _ and made Yoosung feel small and  _ adored _ .

 

“Yeah?” Zen reached down, got his hand on Yoosung’s bare thigh, and those eyes were all predatory- gorgeous and cunning and  _ wanting _ and Yoosung almost squeezed his thighs together. “Can I see?”

 

Yoosung didn’t hesitate. He was suddenly wide awake, heart pounding, as he lay back down, rolling onto his belly. He raised his ass, Jumin’s pajama top sliding to pool along his back, revealing his still slightly pink skin in the low light. Jumin had left the curtains open and the night was easing in through large windows.

 

Yoosung slept better with a little light.

 

Zen clicked his tongue, reaching out and rubbing a hand along Yoosung’s ass. Yoosung sighed, pushing towards it, spreading his legs slightly, fully aware he was on display and  _ knowing _ what it had to be doing to both his boyfriends. Zen’s hand rubbed over his ass again, before sliding between his thighs, two fingers rubbing just between his lips, along his pussy. “You’re still wet,” he whispered, as Yoosung shivered, bit at his lip and wriggled his hips.

 

“Maybe this is  _ your _ fault,” he whispered, turning his head and glancing up. Jumin was watching, eyes intent, his breathing seeming so damn shallow yet slow. Yoosung bit at his lip again, as Zen’s fingers rubbed very slowly over his clit. “But… yeah. I am.”

 

Jumin glanced down at that, and Yoosung offered a smile.

 

Zen shivered, subtle but still there, his fingers still moving. “Wish I hadn’t missed it,” he admitted, “I would have sent you to  _ heaven _ after.”

 

“I was a good boy,” Yoosung whispered, “I would’ve deserved it.”

 

“I bet so. Jumin took care of you though.” Zen turned, eyes shifting to his other boyfriend. “Didn’t you?” Jumin nodded, and Zen reached over with his other hand, gripped his chin. “C’mere, I missed the  _ both _ of you.” Jumin leaned closer, and Zen closed the gap, kissed him deeper this time. His fingers continued to move in slow, torturous circles, and Yoosung closed his eyes, listened to the sounds of their kiss as he felt his belly nearly flipping. Zen always knew how to  _ touch him _ , and he could barely stand it.

 

When his fingers finally pulled away and the wet sounds ceased, Yoosung almost whined- almost demanded he not  _ stop _ , that Yoosung wanted to come now. That he couldn’t tease him-

 

But he was being slipped over, landing on his back with his legs spread, and Zen was sprawling out between them before he could even say a word. He got his hands on Yoosung’s thighs, holding them wide open as his tongue lapped up along his lips, before pushing between them. Yoosung gave a startled cry, arching, as Zen’s tongue set to work, flicking over his clit. The pressure was just  _ perfect _ , steady and fast enough that Yoosung was shaking all over, hands fisting in that blankets.

 

“Zen-  _ Zen _ ,” he gasped, before he felt a hand brushing his hair back. He realized he’d squeezed his eyes shut and forced them open, stared up at Jumin, who had that giant, affectionate smile for him. He bent over, kissed his forehead and hushed him, as Yoosung began to pant. Zen moaned against his pussy, before Jumin was moving from Yoosung to Zen, brushing his hair back before wrapping his ponytail around his fist. He tugged, not enough to disturb what Zen was doing, but enough that his hair was pulled taut. Yoosung arched again, dug his shoulders into the bed. Jumin’s silken pajama top felt like a sheet of cool water over his rapidly heating skin. He could even feel it on his nipples, felt like it was sliding all over him and caressing him in ways he wanted his boyfriends’ hands to.

 

“How does he taste?” Jumin asked, as Zen sealed his mouth over Yoosung’s clit and sucked gently. Yoosung groaned, grinding against his mouth, letting out a broken sob. Zen responded with another groan, and Jumin jerked his hair harder, pulled him off Yoosung’s clit so that Zen was gasping for air. “Hmm?”

 

Yoosung whined, lifting his hips and baring himself, wanting Zen  _ back _ . Instead, however, as he lifted his head, he watched as Jumin held Zen’s head back by his hold on his hair, devouring his mouth in the kind of kiss that was suffocating, would leave you dizzy. Yoosung stared, feeling his cunt  _ throb _ as he watched Jumin’s tongue push into Zen’s mouth, lick at the flavor staining his mouth now.

 

Zen pushed back, until he got Jumin’s lip between his teeth. He bit, got a groan- let go only so that Jumin could pull back. “I’ll kiss you all you want,” Zen whispered, his voice going husky, “but I get our boy off first.”

 

Yoosung wasn’t going to argue any part of that statement.

 

Jumin let go of Zen’s hair, as Zen stretched back out between Yoosung’s legs. “Sorry honey,” he whispered, kissing his thigh, “you know how  _ entitled _ trustfund is.”

 

Jumin scoffed, folding his arms- but not taking his eyes away as Zen slowly kissed towards the juncture of Yoosung’s thighs. Yoosung gyrated his hips, impatient- sighing when Zen’s mouth was back, kissing gently before his tongue pressed back to his clit. Yoosung’s body jerked back to it’s high, and he arched again, his hands scrubbing over the blankets.

 

A moment later, and he felt a hand taking his, a thumb rubbing his knuckles. He glanced through his hair, and Jumin was still watching what Zen was doing intently- but his eyes flicked back to Yoosung’s face, and Yoosung could only smile.

 

He let his eyes fall shut, squeezing Jumin’s hand as Zen’s tongue moved faster, so damn perfect that Yoosung was sure he forgot exactly who he was. His mouth fell open in a little plea, until he was shaking and pushing up and  _ crying out _ , and Zen’s tongue was working him through his orgasm. Wave gave to wave, and Yoosung was shaking all over as it dragged on, until he couldn’t breathe and the corners of his eyes were wet. He finally relaxed, as Zen’s tongue slowed, until it was just his mouth leaving kisses all over sensitive flesh.

 

It was only when Zen was moving, when Yoosung heard the sounds of him kissing Jumin again, that he realized he still had Jumin’s hand in a near-death like grip. He flushed, cracking his eyes open, and Jumin’s other hand was working at Zen’s belt, managing to get it open without much of a problem.

 

That was a move he’d  _ learned _ from Zen, and Yoosung knew. Neither of them were smooth enough to do that without their boyfriend first showing them.

 

Yoosung let go of his hand, watched as Jumin grasped at Zen’s pants, nearly tearing them open and dragging them down his hips. Zen tipped his head back, eyes closed as Jumin dragged his teeth down his neck, bit at his pulse as he pulled his cock free.

 

“Shit,” Zen breathed, as Jumin’s hand wrapped around him, gave him a firm stroke, pausing to let his thumb roll over the head. Zen gripped at Jumin’s biceps, thrusting towards his hand. “Let me,” he managed, letting go of his biceps to reach for his pajama pants. He pulled at the drawstring, untying it and tugging them just down Jumin’s hips, just enough that he could get his cock in hand.

 

Yoosung sat up, still working to catch his breath, eyes wide and fixated. He licked his lips, before whispering in a broken voice, “Zen- get your hand around both your cocks.”

 

Zen glanced over at him, quirking up a brow. “Yeah? That what you want to see?” Yoosung nodded, and Zen pushed Jumin’s hand away, shifted closer until he could get them both in hand. Jumin’s breath rushed out, his head tipping forward, as Zen squeezed, stroking up along them slowly. Jumin reached up, draped his arms over Zen’s shoulder and kissed his jaw, hips rocking, sliding his cock along Zen’s. Yoosung bit at his lip, might have pressed his hand right back between his legs if he wasn’t  _ still _ coming down from his orgasm- if Zen hadn’t left him so damn satisfied.

 

Zen gasped, a little growl rising from his throat. He rolled his thumb over their cockheads, spreading precum down their shafts, as Jumin ent back to his neck, licking and sucking until the skin was faintly red. Not enough to leave a true mark- Yoosung knew they  _ both _ knew that wasn’t allowed when Zen had a show so close. But it was enough that for a few passing minutes, it was clear who had gotten his hands on Zen.

 

Zen’s hips jerked forward, his breath coming ragged- but it was Jumin who came first, huffing out his breath and letting it end in a whine, against Zen’s pulse. His cum splashed over his hand, trickled down both their shafts, as Zen stroked him through his orgasm. His thighs were shaking, and Yoosung worried at his lip, barely able to  _ breathe _ .

 

When Zen came, it was with a growl, with a groan that made Yoosung gasp and he  _ swore _ another orgasm nearly start. Jumin moaned over it, over the feeling of warm cum soaking both their shafts, as he got another hand tangled in Zen’s hair. He didn’t pull this time, simply held on, as Zen finished out his orgasm, before he slumped forward, his weight supported by Jumin’s counter weight.

 

“Fuck,” Zen gasped, panting. “I… needed that.”

 

Yoosung smiled, sliding back along the bed until he was resting in the pillows. “Come over here before you both fall over,” he teased, and Jumin and Zen untangled. They moved carefully, on either side of him, Jumin reaching for his nightstand and grabbing the tissue, grimacing slightly as he tried to clean up the mess he was. Zen seemed to care less, flopping down onto his back.

 

Yoosung rolled his eyes, snatching up the tissue box and doing it himself. Zen chuckled over that, as Jumin rolled his eyes, tugging his pajama pants back into place.

 

“We are going to regret this lack of sleep in the morning,” he pointed out, and Zen shook his head.

 

“Nah,  _ you _ might. But rehearsal is late and Yoosung can sleep half the day away. Wake us up before you and you can have a goodbye kiss.”

 

“What makes you think I’ll let you both sleep in  _ my _ bed while I am working?”

 

“Experience,” Yoosung said, glancing back and smiling at Jumin… who had no counter for that. Zen snorted, pulling his underwear up, just as a little  _ jingle _ filled the air, and then the blanket tugged slightly as something jumped up onto the bed.

 

“Fuck  _ no _ ,” Zen said, scrambling up and towards the head of the bed even more. “Get the furball back!” Elizabeth cocked her head, planting herself down and meowing, and Jumin reached down, stroking her head.

 

“She has as much right to this bed as you do.”

 

“Excuse me, I- dude she’s still just your  _ cat _ .” Zen sniffled, throwing his hands up. “It’s already  _ starting _ !” He flopped back over, curling up on his side, and Yoosung giggled, nearly snorting as he reached over, stroking his boyfriend’s hair.

 

“It’s okay. I bet if we ask  _ real nice _ , Jumin will take the princess back to the couch where she was last passed out.” Yoosung glanced back, batting his eyelashes, and Jumin huffed. He climbed from the bed, gathering Elizabeth up and heading towards the door. Zen sighed, listening, before Yoosung was tugging at his jacket. “Now c’mon, I want to get some sleep. Strip already.”

 

“Demanding, aren’t you?” Zen asked, squirming around as he stripped. Yoosung knew it would have been faster if he’d just sit up, but Zen seemed content sprawling over half the bed as he worked his clothing off, until he was in nothing but his underwear. Yoosung flopped onto his chest when he was done, snuggling in and dragging one finger along the curves of Zen’s abs. Zen hummed, turning and kissing his forehead, as Juin made his way back in. He paused, watching the two, before Yoosung lifted his head and smiled.

 

“You want the middle tonight?” he asked, and Jumin hesitated- before nodding. Yoosung sat up, squirming back, and Jumin crawled onto the bed. He curled up against Zen’s chest, an arm draped over his waist as he pressed his cheek up by his shoulder.

 

“You are lucky I love you,” he mumbled, and Zen smiled, as Yoosung stretched out, pressing right up against Jumin’s back. He tangled their legs together, curling his arm around his waist and clinging.

 

“Yeah, I know. Otherwise  _ I’d _ be on the couch and the furball would be here.”

 

“Her name is Elizabeth the third.” Zen huffed, and Yoosung kissed the back of Jumin’s neck.

 

“Shut up and go to sleep,” he mumbled, “the both of you. I have a raid tomorrow afternoon so I can’t sleep  _ all day _ .” He heard  _ both _ his boyfriends huff- but he could only smile. It wouldn’t matter- they’d drift off to sleep soon, they’d wake up a tangled mess- they’d all drag themselves out of bed before they wanted to, eat breakfast together. Disappear back out into the world.

 

This was a  _ practiced _ routine. And Yoosung couldn’t be happier.


End file.
